Good Gracie

by Ines Saint

  The next slide contained half a dozen pictures of Gracie wearing unique but admittedly cute outfits, and different hair colors. It had been so long ago, but a small sense of pride blossomed in her chest.

  Hope offered them a crooked smile and said, “Good Gracie never stopped being creative or a hard worker, but she took her goofy flag down. We are gathered here today to present Gracie with a plan that will allow her goofy flag to fly once again.”

  “So . . .” Paige stood alongside Hope and they linked arms. “We’re calling the plan we all came up with, ‘Gracie Gets her Goof Back,’ and it’s super simple.”

  Hope nodded, and Gracie was gratified to see her normally snarky sister looking genuinely happy. “Step one is a makeover in which you commit to styling your hair and wardrobe according to your true heart’s desire. No holding back.”

  “Step two,” Grandma Sherry continued, “is to flirt with Josh. We decided Rosa will be the best to teach you how. You can go out with her and watch how she has men safely and effectively falling at her feet. Her subtle brand of flirting is exactly what you need.”

  Gracie’s mouth fell open. Not only did they want her to flirt with Josh but they thought Rosa was the best person to teach her how . . . Were she and Rosa supposed to go senior center and church bingo hopping together?

  “Don’t look so shocked yet. Save it for when you see how great I am,” Rosa gloated.

  “I wanted to teach you, but they all claim I’m not subtle. They’ve got no appreciation for flair,” Ruby harrumphed.

  Gracie cleared her throat. “Step three?” she asked. Not because she was eager to know but because she was eager to change the subject before she said anything that could be construed as offensive.

  “There’s no step three. Makeover and learn how to flirt. That’s it.” Paige shrugged. “We told you it was simple.”

  Gracie gave her head a small shake. “Easy for you to say,” she said under her breath.

  Paige sat down in front of her. “You’re readier than you think, little Sis. The moment you thought I needed you, you moved in, even though it brought you back to a place you’ve avoided for years. And the moment you were offered the chance at a promotion, you took it, even though it would take you to a place you never wanted to see again.”

  Hope grabbed her hand. “You’ve become a success in your chosen field and we know in many ways you’ve healed. But you still hold on to two big fears: drawing attention to yourself and men. The two are related, and we know you know that. The only way you can overcome those fears is to face them. Josh is a good guy. He won’t judge you and he’d never take advantage. And your flirting will be so subtle, he probably won’t even notice it, but you will. It’ll be a step.”

  Grandma Sherry nodded. “Start with the little things that are easy to change and then move on to the things that are more of a commitment. Perfume can be first. Then your wardrobe and then your hair . . . We know it will be scary, because you’ll be opening yourself up and allowing the outside to express what’s on the inside, but it will be fun, too. We’ve seen when your eye catches certain clothes and shoes at the mall and when you linger on hairstyles in magazines. There’s yearning there. You’re ready.”

  An image of a hairstyle she’d ripped out of a magazine popped into her head. She’d thought about it and then discarded the idea as silly. And maybe it was silly because she was twenty-six. But if she were honest, it was her heart’s desire. An outward expression of the hope she allowed herself to feel sometimes, that she could just let go and be.

  Gracie looked down at her hands on her lap, thinking about how the past might catch up to her, no matter how hard she’d tried to keep it away. “I don’t want to be afraid of fully living anymore, but it’s hard.” She blew out a short, hard breath and nodded once, feeling, at the moment, determined. “But being here has showed me that letting go is scary but exhilarating, and that feeling has been calling to me more and more.” She paused. “I still feel the need to do this at my own pace, though.” Her gaze settled on her grandmother. “That means you can’t push me. Please. Be there for me. I know how lucky I am that you are. But don’t push.”

  Grandma Sherry’s lips parted, as if she understood what Gracie was saying but was confused all the same. “Push you? Honey, I hope you know we like to nudge, for your own good, but we’d never push you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

  Gracie debated whether she should say it in front of everyone or confront her grandmother alone. With a shake of her head, she decided to gentle her tone and get it over with. “I spoke with Diane today. I know you’ve known her for quite some time, and I also know you were the one who sent her the tip about the bid for the Dayton-Montgomery County Courts Building. It may not seem like a push to you—there was no way you could know we’d get the job, after all—but not telling me about it and going behind my back to give Diane the tip? That’s being pushy.”

  Grandma Sherry’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Gracie? I never sent Diane a tip about anything. I had no idea they were remodeling the courts building until you got the job and told me.”

  Gracie froze for a moment, trying to make sense of things. She looked around. Everyone seemed confused. “You’re saying you didn’t send Diane an email with a link to the bid?”

  Grandma Sherry shook her head. “No, sweetie. I send her recipes for Kombucha and funny memes, and every once in a blue moon she calls me for advice, but that’s about it.”

  Gracie believed her . . . but it didn’t make sense. She gave her head a short shake. “Why haven’t you ever told me that you and Diane are friendly?” she asked.

  Her grandmother sat down again. “I’m sorry about that, but Rosa and Ruby were your references and you had coached them not to lie, obviously, but not to say too much. Honestly, you over coached them. One thing led to another and she ended up talking to me. It turned out Diane already knew what had happened and didn’t care. She only wanted reassurance that you were okay and that you weren’t hiding anything else. We thought it best for you to feel your secret was safe. I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

  Gracie offered her grandmother a sad but conciliatory smile. “Don’t be. I get it. It was four years ago and I was still pretty raw. I don’t think I would’ve taken the job or stayed if I’d found out Diane knew. But if it wasn’t you, who sent her the tip?”

  Blank faces met her question. “Call her and have her check again. Maybe she got an email from me the same day she got the tip from someone else and she mixed it up in her head.”

  Gracie nodded. She’d have Diane check.

  * * *

  Later that evening, as she sat on the stoop of her building with Josh, all thoughts of giving in to the exhilaration of living fully were gone. “ ‘Past Smatter,’” she read out loud, looking down at the username attributed to the comments in the printouts Josh was showing her. She wrinkled her nose and looked at Josh. “Because they’re posting a smattering of the past?”

  “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that. Everyone seems to think it’s Pasts Matter,” he explained, which she could see made more sense. “So you’re saying Diane checked and the email address the tip was sent from wasn’t your grandmother’s but had her name on it?” he continued.

  Gracie nodded one moment, then shook her head the next, feeling as if she needed to wake up. “Yes. But I don’t get any of this. What are you thinking?” She looked up at him because she had to start somewhere.

  Josh raked a hand through his hair. “Jamar, a deputy sheriff who’s also a good friend, showed me the comments, but a few people have since called me because they saw them, too, and wanted to warn me. Jamar had me write down a list of people who would benefit from making me look bad.” He looked at her. “The list is long, Gracie. I’ve been prosecuting criminals and delinquents for nine years. I’ve made enemies. My only regret is that someone is pulling you into this.”

  “You think this is about you and not me. That they’re using me as a way to ca
st doubts on your character.” Gracie met his eyes, and the concern she saw there touched her in ways she wasn’t ready to be touched, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. This seemed to be more about him and his career than it was about her and her past. At some point, she’d wondered if Brad and his family knew she was back and were trying to hurt her again. “So they hunted me down and sent my boss a tip to possibly get me here to possibly hurt your campaign?” She tried to wrap her head around it. “It’s too farfetched. And then, why would they call today pretending to be you to try to get me removed from the job?”

  “I can only think of two possibilities. One: It makes me look bad if it gets out there that I tried to get you removed. Two: They want to shake your trust in me. If you don’t trust me, you might not feel compelled to defend me if the need arises.” He must’ve seen the doubt in her eyes because he sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I agree; it’s crazy. But let’s go through it all. Someone impersonated your grandmother, someone used pink frosting to smear the words pasts matter on a courthouse mirror and then used those same words as a username to leave lies about our relationship under various articles, and then someone impersonated me to question your boss. It’s like a trial, with one side leading multiple lines of attack to plant reasonable doubt. They’re also savvy—the pink frosting ties everything to one of our most famous courthouse ghosts, which is odd enough to get attention on its own. Their strategy is dirty, but it’s working. Doubts have been planted, and the burden of proof is now on me.”

  Gracie nodded, following him while unraveling her own thoughts. “Midwest Workplace Solutions is both women-owned and minority-owned certified. Both certifications carry weight in the bidding process, and we do often land government contracts. No one could have known we’d be selected, but it was a good bet because it’s a small industry as it is and it didn’t cost anyone a thing to send a tip to try to get the wheels moving.” She picked up a stick and began breaking it into pieces. “How do you feel about your opponents?” she asked.

  “I’m not close to either of them, but I work with Rachel so we have a friendlier relationship. She and I agree on a few important policies and we’ve had some great talks, but we’ve also had our share of heated debates. Kurt Bosco I’ve faced in the courtroom, and I admire his abilities and would never underestimate him. But Kurt is already immensely successful, and everyone can see Rachel has a long career in politics ahead of her. They’re both whip-smart, savvy, and well-respected, and I can’t see either of them risking their reputations, but I also wouldn’t cross either of them off the list because they obviously have a motive.”

  Gracie appeared to take that in. “And Rachel Foster works in the building, so she could have smeared the pink frosting, right?”

  “She was up in Michigan for a conference that day. And I checked the visitor log for the building, but no names popped out at me.” He hesitated. “I’ve told you how things look to me, Gracie, and that I think it’s about me, but I can’t be sure whoever it is isn’t trying to hurt you, too.”

  Gracie closed her eyes for a moment. “Brad or his family, you mean.”

  “It’s possible.”

  Gracie’s heart hammered hard. “This is libel or defamation or something, isn’t it? And someone pretended to be you and Grandma Sherry. That’s impersonation. Is there any way you can subpoena records from the newspapers and check the IP address of the person who posted the comment? Maybe we can check it against the IP address that sent the email pretending to be Grandma Sherry to Diane or against some database? Or check phone records to figure out who really called Diane or at least from where?”

  He shot her a regretful look. “All great ideas, but obtaining subpoenas and warrants for phone and data records is incredibly difficult. And no false allegations have been made. The comments directed people to look into our relationship, that’s it. We can’t even prove malice really. The bar for that is high.”

  “It’s crazy that someone would go to all this trouble.” She tried to let it sink in, but it wouldn’t.

  They were quiet for a long time. His presence was oddly calming, even when neither of them was comfortable, not with everything that was going on. Finally, he turned to her and put his hand over hers, as if it were natural. Gracie didn’t look down, afraid he’d mistake her surprise for displeasure and take his hand away. Her surprise was that she didn’t want him to.

  “Gracie . . .” He searched her eyes and she knew whatever he was going to say would have an impact. “You changed my life and you changed it for the better. If you hadn’t trusted me all those years ago, I wouldn’t have taken this road, and I’m glad I did. Maybe I’m deluded, but I like to think I make a difference. That started with you. I owe you that.” His thumb passed over the top of her hand once and her breath hitched. He looked down, as if he had only just then realized what he’d done. “Sorry,” he said and took his hand away. To him, it had been a friendly, comforting touch, she knew. To her, it had been so much more. But that wasn’t what he thought.

  “It’s—it’s fine.”

  “No. It’s not, none of this is for you.” His eyes were locked on hers, and she knew he wasn’t talking about his gentle caress. “If you want me to quit the race, I will. No hard feelings. That’s what I’m trying to say. I owe you, and what I owe you is not all this. But I’d have to withdraw now. Doing so later would be letting too many people down and I won’t do that. My committee is set up and we’ve held several organizational meetings, but I don’t officially launch my campaign until the Friday after Thanksgiving, and I don’t begin accepting donations until next Monday.”

  Tears stung her eyes. He meant what he was saying. He’d drop out if she asked him to. Only she never would. Everything inside her recoiled at the idea. “No, Josh. I don’t want that. I’d never want that. If you drop out, they win. They shouldn’t win, whoever they are. You owe me nothing.”

  Josh watched as a little of the old Gracie came back once again. Her chin had gone up, her shoulders had straightened, and defiance had hardened her features. He wondered if she even realized it. “I watched your press conference,” she continued. “I liked what you had to say and the way you laid out your vision. It was easy to follow and it made sense.”

  He was gratified, but there was nothing he could say. What he wanted to do was squeeze her hand, but she’d jumped at his absentminded touch a little while ago. To his surprise, she reached out and squeezed his. Her movements were jerky and her hand was back at her side in an instant.

  “Thank you,” she said. He felt the two words and her light touch as deeply as if she’d hugged him to her heart and made a speech. Probably more. He wouldn’t belittle whatever she was feeling by telling her there was nothing she needed to thank him for.

  When he started to get up, she asked, “What did you think of the house?”

  He sat back down, hoping she’d asked because she didn’t want him to leave. It lightened the heaviness he’d been feeling because he wasn’t ready to go yet. It was calm here, sitting on a stoop on a quiet street, two people alone but not lonely, looking out into the inky waters of the river. “I guess I liked it because I made an offer.”

  She smiled. “You did?”

  “I wanted to ask you if you minded first, but you’d said you wouldn’t be here for long, so I thought it would be okay.”

  “This is the rest of your life; no one who won’t be in it should mind.”

  “If the rest of my life is here, I like it,” he said, looking back at the house. The whole scene made him feel anchored and alive. “And the estate was so eager to sell, they accepted my low-ball offer and told me I can keep the keys and come and go as I please. It already feels like it’s mine.”

  A chilly wind swept by, and he felt rather than saw Gracie shiver. Without giving it much thought, he took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders, careful not to touch her. His eyes caught hers and her wide-eyed look gave him pause. He’d thought before that she was afraid and that
she didn’t deserve to be living in fear of a man’s touch. It had pained him.

  But what he saw wasn’t fear. It was awareness. His heart slammed against his chest and he dropped his hands. Thoughts swirled around his head as awkwardness settled between them, but he didn’t know what to do. Taking his coat back mere seconds after he’d draped it over her shoulders would look downright odd.

  Was there really some sort of spark between them? That would be as unwelcome as it had been unexpected. The last thing he needed was that complication. It had been a while since he’d been in a steady relationship and he was too cautious and disciplined to be into hookups and one-night stands. Friends with benefits with zero interest in anything more by both parties; that was the ideal situation for him at the moment. And so his thoughts went as he stared out into the distance.

  By the time he heard her clear her throat, he’d convinced himself he’d misinterpreted both the look in her eyes and his reaction to it. He turned to study her for a moment, aware he was holding his breath.

  “Do you mind telling me about some of these criminals who have grudges against you?” she asked, pinning him with a beseeching look.

  He suppressed a grin and narrowed his eyes at her. “Sure, but I have to say you don’t look too worried about me. You look like a woman expecting to be entertained.”

  She bit down on a smile, but her eyes twinkled. “There’s a reason there are like two dozen criminal justice shows. Everyone and their grandmother finds your world fascinating. But tell me about the criminals who are locked up first. I’ll worry about you when you tell me about the ones who are roaming the streets.”

  Josh leaned back. “How about we trade stories? For every fascinating case I tell you, you share a story of your own. You said you interview people about their workplace needs—that must bring up some interesting requirements.”

  She seemed surprised and delighted that he’d think that. “It does. It’s also brought up some downright bizarre ones.”